


Looking for Trouble

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Rivalmance, Rough Sex, Seduction, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhain has a smart mouth, and Blackwall provides a tempting target.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking for Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> I do miss the rivalmance options from DA2.

As soon as he got a chance Rhain slipped away. He'd never missed the forests his clan called home as much as he had these last few days, tromping around in the heat and the sand looking for clues that would suggest the purpose of these crystal shards they'd collected. They'd established camp next to an oasis and it was too much to resist. 

He found a secluded nook where water ran from a crack in the stone and stripped his robes off, letting them fall without care where they landed. His boots were next. He upended them, letting the sand trickle out of each before discarding them. His trousers he regretfully left on. There were too many creatures wandering around to risk completely baring himself. He consoled himself with the thought that they'd dry fast enough in this heat. He did hold onto his staff, propping it carefully up against the stone before stepping under the spray. 

The water was warm, but still refreshing, and he let it sluice the sweat and dust from his body. As he leaned back, letting it soak into his hair, he heard footsteps approaching. He identified Blackwall by his heavy tread immediately, grimaced, then decided to tweak the dour Warden.

"You shouldn't wander off alone like this, lad. There's too many creatures about ...." Blackwall choked on the last word as he took in the sight of Rhain, back arched, water cascading down his body, one hand pinching a nipple, the other working at the ties of his pants. 

"Don't worry. I have my staff close at hand," he quipped, letting his fingers wander just briefly below the waistband of his trousers. 

Blackwall scowled, but Rhain noticed he didn't look away.

"I'm sure you could do with a wash yourself." Turning, he braced his hands against the rock, legs spread, and let the water run down across his back. Loosened and becoming increasingly waterlogged, his pants were beginning to slide down off his hips. "I could give you a hand. Help you with all those hard to reach spots." He put just the slightest bit of emphasis on the word "hard." "Plenty of room for two," he continued, turning slightly so he could watch Blackwall out of the corner of his eye. The older man wasn't blushing or turning away, much to his surprise. He shifted his stance and felt his pants slip a bit more, watched as Blackwall's tongue darted out between his lips, barely visible under the coarse hair of his moustache. 

"Like what you see?" he asked, and when Blackwall looked up and met his eyes he winked. 

“Is everything a joke to you?” Blackwall asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

“Who said I’m joking?” Rhain responded, moving out from under the water, pushing his wet hair back from his face with both hands. This had the incidental effect of showing his torso off to good advantage while allowing his pants to slip even further. They were barely hanging on now and Blackwall’s gaze traveled downwards. His swallow was visible even under beard, encouraging Rhain to push things even further. 

Rhain let his hands fall, tracing the sides of his neck, trailing down his chest, across the plain of his stomach, just dipping under the waistband of his pants, then up again. He began moving forward, slow steps, putting an extra sway in his hips as he walked, until he was within arm’s reach of Blackwall, then reached out with one hand, circling one of the metal studs on Blackwall’s quilted coat. 

Blackwall finally reacted, reaching up and grabbing Rhain’s wrist, forcing his arm up and out to the side. Rhain tilted his head, grinning in challenge, and reached out with the other hand. Blackwall didn’t disappoint, not waiting for Rhain to touch him. 

“Now what?” Rhain asked and Blackwall growled, pushing him backwards until his back met stone, pushing his arms up, pinning them above his head. Their bodies were flush and the rough fabric of Blackwall’s coat and the scrape of rock against his back against his bare skin made Rhain moan.

“Is this what you wanted?” Blackwall growled.

“Well, it’s a start.” 

Things might have gone further but they were interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

“My apologies, Inquisitor, Warden, but Scout Harding has found what seems to be a ruined temple that we should investigate. Her report just arrived.”

Blackwall stared down at him for an instant before releasing him and stepping back. He tugged at his coat, pulling it down, then turned and strode away, nodding at Solas as he brushed by the elf.

Solas watched him go, then turned back to Rhain, eyebrow raised in disdain, watching in silence as he gathered up his things.

Rhain waited for Solas to say something and was surprised when the older elf remained silent.

“What, no scornful comments about consorting with shems?” he taunted.

“Why waste my breath?” Solas replied.

Rhain laughed. "You have a point. Keeper Deshanna was always trying to warn me that trouble would find me if I didn't change my ways."

"And, obviously you took her advice to heart." The disapproval radiating from the older elf was almost visible and sarcasm was thick in his voice.

"Well, of course I did. I like trouble." Solas' scowl deepened at his response.

That night after they retired, he waited and listened, and sure enough an hour or so after dark he heard a familiar set of footsteps outside his tent. They paused, and he heard Blackwall mutter something unintelligible, then the footsteps retreated. From the sound of it he was pacing around their campsite. Settling in to wait, Rhain conjured a small mage light to see by and dug out the vial of oil he'd wheedled from the requisition officer. He'd already shed every stitch of clothing after closing the flaps to his tent even though the nights could grow chilly. Pouring out a small amount of oil onto his fingers, he gave himself a few quick strokes and then let his fingers wander lower. 

Closing his eyes, he imagined how Blackwall looked, striding around camp, scowling at everything. What would the expression be on his face, if he finally got up the nerve and parted the tent flap, seeing Rhain spread out nude before him, finger fucking himself? If he didn’t leave, would he strip too? No, Rhain decided. He’d want to remain in as much control as possible, and keeping clothed while Rhain was bare would make him feel dominant.

What position would he favor? Would he throw Rhain to his back, spreading his legs? Or would he press him belly down into the bedroll, one hand buried in his hair, the other gripping hard enough to bruise, controlling his every movement. That thought elicited a moan, and when Blackwall’s pacing took him close to the tent again Rhain rolled over on his side, propping his head up with one hand, and called out, just loud enough to be heard. 

“Either come in or go away.”

The footsteps stopped, as did the muttering, and finally Blackwall pulled aside the canvas flap. He’d shed that awful coat, Rhain noticed. The cotton of his shirt clung to his shoulders and fell loose around his torso and the coarse black hair on his chest was outlined by the vee at the neck. He froze there, startled by the sight that greeted him. 

Yes, Rhain thought, that’s about how I thought he’d look. He reached down, gave his shaft a slow pump, then another, and heard Blackwall’s breath hitch.

“Well, are you in or out? Make up your mind,” he demanded, and Blackwall finally stepped forward. “Unless you’re into public displays? Shall we make ourselves comfy out by the fire?

“Andraste’s flaming ass, do you never stop flapping your lips?” Blackwall growled. The tent was barely tall enough for Rhain to stand upright in and Blackwall topped him by at least a hand and he looked ridiculous, all hunched over the way he was.

“Only when I have something to wrap them around,” Rhain shot back, and patted the bedroll.

That earned him a grunt and Blackwall moved in, kneeling next to him, starting to work at the lacings of his pants. When he freed himself, Rhain leaned in, running a finger along his length.

“Hmmm. I suppose I can work with that.” Before Blackwall could retort he bent down, swallowing him down to the base. Blackwall hadn’t been completely hard yet so it wasn’t difficult, but that quickly changed as he eased off. He pulled back until his lips met the tip, swirling his tongue as he withdrew, then dragging his tongue back down the underside of his shaft. Blackwall muttered a curse and buried his hands in Rhain’s hair, fingernails scraping against scalp, and Rhain laughed, letting his breath puff out, warm air against the wet trails his tongue had left. 

Blackwall came apart beneath him, hands clenching at his hair to the point of pain, thrusting up against him when he took him back into his mouth, whimpering in protest whenever he pulled back, grunting and groaning as he lapped at the fluid leaking from the tip of his shaft. It was harder to take him all in now, Rhain thought, and then chuckled at the unintended pun, making Blackwall buck with the vibrations. 

When both his jaw and his neck started to ache, he pulled off with a final swirl and pried Blackwall’s hands from his hair, sitting back. 

“Too much for you?” Blackwall taunted, and Rhain laughed.

“Hardly. But despite the rumors of Grey Warden stamina, I don’t think it’s likely a man of your age is up for two goes in one evening and I’ve been looking forward to a good hard fuck all day.” As he spoke, he fished out the vial of oil from his bedroll and dangled it between them. 

“I’ll make you eat those words, boy,” Blackwall threatened, and Rhain laughed.

“Looking forward to it.” Spilling out some oil into his fingers, he wrapped his hand around Blackwall’s shaft, coating it in swift strokes, then laid back and spread his legs. His earlier ministrations had left him well-slicked already but he was putting on a show, and it did not go unappreciated. He knew he painted a pretty picture, the magelight highlighting his lean form. He thrust into his fingers, head thrown back, catching his lower lip between his teeth while he stroked himself with his other hand. He let out a moan and Blackwall lunged forward, grabbing both wrists and pinning them up over his head, crushing Rhain with his weight.

“Enough teasing,” he growled, and Rhain writhed beneath him, rubbing their cocks together.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he invited, and Blackwall rose up, straddling him. He swallowed a yelp of surprise as Blackwall seized him by the hips, flipping him over, then arched up into his touch as hands stroked up and down the length of his spine, pushing backwards against the hardness pressing into his cleft. 

A hand in his hair pulled his head back and he whimpered.

“Is this what you want?” 

“Getting there.”

Fingers trailed down his back and then dug into his hips as Blackwall lifted him up, pressing into him. There was no finesse, no tease, and Rhain hissed as Blackwall pushed in. He had no time to adjust before Blackwall withdrew and thrust in again. It took a few strokes for the burn to fade but Rhain worked through it and was soon arching into the thrusts, reveling in the exquisite sensation of fullness. He propped himself up on his elbows, rocking back into the thrusts, making mewling sounds of pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Blackwall’s voice was hoarse, his breath harsh. 

A smart retort was on the tip of Rhain’s tongue but Blackwall shifted his stance slightly, scraping the bundle of nerves inside of him and the words died in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he managed to choke out, and Blackwall’s laughter rolled over him, low and breathy.

“That’s right. That’s what you wanted. You wanted to get fucked.” Blackwall slammed into him, harder, faster, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the tent, underscored by Rhain’s moans. His cock, heavy and hot with need, bobbed beneath him with the force of Blackwall’s pummeling, fluid leaking from the tip, spattering up against his stomach. Blackwall shifted again, one hand leaving Rhain’s hip to grip his shoulder, pulling Rhain back into him with each thrust and Rhain’s cries grew even more wild, electric pulses shooting through him. He was flying apart, orgasm curling up from his core when Blackwall stilled, sinking all the way in and stopping, holding Rhain immobile despite his struggles.

“ _Din venavis_ ” Rhain cried out, then, realizing he’d slipped into elvhen, repeated himself. “Don’t stop! Why are you stopping?”

“Beg. Beg for it.”

“Fuck. Fuck me. Please. Don’t stop.”

“You can do better than that.” Blackwall pulled back, oh so slowly, torturously, until he had almost completely withdrawn and Rhain whimpered, tried in vain to push back, impale himself on Blackwall’s shaft.

“Beg,” Blackwall repeated, and Rhain finally found his voice.

“I want to come on your cock. I want you to fuck me until I scream. Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Fuck me …” and before he could finish Blackwall drove in with bruising force. As his pleasure crested he did scream, and only Blackwall’s grip kept him from collapsing.

Blackwall rode through his orgasm as Rhain shuddered and shook beneath him. Rhain expected him to follow soon after, but either the legends of Grey Warden stamina were more than rumor or Blackwall was going to rupture something reining himself in. Bleeding thorns, the man wouldn’t come. As his assault continued, every nerve ending in Rhain’s body screamed, overstimulated and beyond, and his muscles felt like jelly and he was beginning to hyperventilate, breath coming in huge gasps, and yet the man kept pounding into him. 

He had a brief moment of respite when Blackwall withdrew and had no strength to resist when Blackwall manhandled him onto his back, right onto the pool of his own come. Gasping, he lay there and watched as Blackwall pulled his shirt off, cast it aside. _Fenedhis_ , the man was nothing but scars and hair. Spreading his legs, Blackwall settled down on top of him, and for the first time he felt the touch of lips and teeth on his skin. Blackwall’s beard rasped against his neck as the man sucked and bit, working his way from the join of neck and shoulder to the base of Rhain’s jaw beneath his ear, a play of teeth and tongue that almost distracted him from the push of Blackwall’s shaft as his hips were raised. 

Of their own accord, his legs wrapped around Blackwall’s waist as Blackwall slid back into him and he could only whimper weakly when Blackwall began his assault anew. Only a few thrusts and he was writhing again, beyond being able to describe the sounds he made. His nails dug into Blackwall’s biceps and he felt the skin part beneath them as Blackwall bit down hard on his neck. Rough at first, Blackwall found a new rhythm, plunging deep. A hand had found its way into Rhain’s hair again, pulling, and skin on his skin felt abraded from the rub of Blackwall’s beard. The other hand worked its way under his hips, lifting him up, and again just the slight change of angle caused stars to explode across Rhain’s vision. 

The magelight flickered and Blackwall’s laugh ghosted across his skin, low and mocking. He was achingly hard again, Rhain realized, hard and leaking, his fluids smeared across his belly and Blackwall’s as well, and the man showed no signs of slowing down even now. He’d have to do something about that, he thought, and made a concerted effort to tighten down each time Blackwall pulled back, flexing his internal muscles around Blackwall’s shaft. As exhausted as he was becoming it wasn’t something he could keep up for long, but it had the desired effect. Blackwall’s breathing grew ragged, his movements almost savage, driving balls deep into Rhain with each thrust and he felt like he was splitting apart when Blackwall finally plowed into him for a final time, collapsing on top of him with a shout.

There was no sound in the tent but their breathing for some time.

Finally, Blackwall broke the silence. “So I’ve finally found a way to shut you up. Good to know.”

“It takes breath to talk, you giant lummox. You’re crushing me,” Rhain managed to get out, and Blackwall levered himself up, rolling over and falling heavily onto his back beside him.

The blood may have stopped pounding in his ears but Rhain discovered he was still hard. Groping around, he found the vial of oil and uncorked it. His hands were shaking, he noticed as he missed his fingers, splashing oil on his belly instead. Recorking the bottle, he smeared his fingers through the mess and took himself in hand. He felt Blackwall stir beside him, saw him roll over on his side out of the corner of his eye, but was still unprepared when Blackwall flicked his finger across Rhain’s nipple. He swallowed the cry that threatened to escape him as Blackwall rolled the nub between his fingers and pulled.

“Not done yet? I’m going to have to work harder next time.”

“Oh, so there’s going to be a next time, is there?” It took energy he didn’t have to keep his voice steady, forcing a light teasing tone, but damned if he was going to let Blackwall know just how much he’d wrecked him. 

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” 

He wished he could see Blackwall’s expression but the magelight cast shadows across his face and the depths of his eyes were hidden.

Blackwall relinquished his nipple in favor of closing his hand over Rhain’s, increasing the pressure of his strokes and dragging his thumb roughly over the tip. With the added attention it didn’t take long for Rhain to climax, covering his belly with hot spurts.

When the last shudders subsided Blackwall reached up, running his fingers across Rhain’s stomach, smearing them with Rhain's seed, then lifting them to Rhain’s mouth. Rhain made a show of sucking them clean and was startled when Blackwall leaned down after he was finished, capturing his lips in a sudden kiss. Seemingly abashed by his sudden impulse, Blackwall rose, picking up his shirt and leaving without word or glance.

“Well, that was different,” Rhain mused.

The temptation was strong to let sleep claim him but he knew he’d regret it. He rolled over to his side, then managed to get his knees under him. 

“ _Fenedhis lasa,_ ” he swore as he forced himself up. Planning saves the day, he thought, as he dug the covered bowl of water out from the corner where he’d tucked it, preparing for the cleanup he’d hoped he’d need. Also squirreled away were a healing potion and a poultice, without which he’d be in a world of hurt come the morning. He left his neck untouched. He’d wear the bruises and beard rash with pride, and as he began his aftercare routine he hummed happily to himself, imagining Blackwall’s surprise when he emerged from his tent the next morning, to all appearances practically unscathed.

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanons for [Rhain](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/tagged/rhain) keep changing. Is he the shameless flirt who accidentally ends up falling hard for a certain Seeker, or is he a smart mouthed troublemaker who's determined to sleep his way through the entire Inquisition and pushes himself too hard trying to satisfy his prodigious sex drive? Only time will tell.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


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